The sun set over the Dark Forest, casting cold, eery glows through the thick canopy. A blanket of mist gathered on the forest floor, signalling the retreat of any animals that dared venture out as the sun went down. Dementors drifted between the tree trunks as if in search of the tiniest morsel of a good memory for them to feed upon. Into the nothingness of darkness they floated, their blackened rags fluttering delicately and their gnarled, decaying fingers grasping at air as they sucked it in through their thin, lipless mouths.
With the Dementors making the way safe, a dark figure strode across the leaf litter on the forest floor, bare white feet kicking through the soil towards a great, thick oak tree that a dense shadow was leaning against. The silence around the two mysterious figures was dense with evil intentions as the full moon shone from behind the clouds and in the distance, a werewolf howled.
"Were you successful?" that malevolent, hissing voice belonging to Lord Voldemort echoed through the clearing. The howling werewolves and scuttling nocturnal creatures instantly grew silent as the cold mist thickened the evil atmosphere.
"Of course," a deep, gravelly voice responded with a small, guttural laugh, "they should think twice before trying to bring them across in the open."
The Dark Lord's white face seemed to emit a pearly glow in the darkness, his lipless mouth baring pointed fangs in what resembled a smile, "you would think so, but they are determined."
The stranger gave another small laugh that was sadistic and evil, "determined they are. It was quite amusing seeing them fight for their lives. Given their strength, they were dispatched unnaturally easily."
"Good," Voldemort replied with a low hiss, "it won't be long before my plan can come to fruition, so renew your efforts again and continue to chip away their hope and defence. The Order is divided over their strategies so they will be easy to overcome."
"Divide and conquer," came the malevolent response, "what of me?"
"Take up your post as directed and keep a close watch on the boy," Voldemort instructed, wincing as the moon cast its rays directly on him through a gap in the trees, "use their friendship to flush her out of the shadows, for she is the one that most interests me now. Deliver her to me and you will be greatly rewarded."
The stranger growled ferociously in ascent, "I will present you gladly with her ashes," he said as he began to shrink back into the shadows.
"I need her alive," Voldemort snapped, "anyone else who crosses your path do not concern me, but she is no good to me dead."
"As you wish," came the response and with that, both figures melted into the darkness, their sinister encounter complete.
The morning was still very new when Harry Potter was awoken from his nightmare. The bedroom window was ajar and all the fresh scents of a new day drifted into the stale, dusty room on the back of a cool breeze.
His panting breath took in great lungfuls of the refreshed oxygen, the pure air numbing the pain that cut through his body as the lightning bolt scar issued its agonising warning.
Reaching up a hand, he rubbed the inflamed skin clear of sweat and calmed himself enough to recollect the images he had seen.
Voldemort had met someone under cover of darkness and that person had told him something. Something bad. They were both pleased and that never bode well.
Deep in his gut, he had known that 'the boy' referred to him, but he was used to being targeted by evil-doers. The woman Voldemort needed alive had to be...
Sitting up, Harry looked straight ahead at the threadbare, faded tapestries hanging from the facing wall, depicting members of the infamous Black family slaughtering beasts in bloodthirsty, gory detail.
Putting on his glasses, he picked a blue scrapbook off the bedside cupboard. Flicking through the pages, his eyes settled on a clipping from the Daily Prophet of yesterday. The headline was bold and haunting, 'Fudge accused of allegiance with Vampires; Minister for Magic slackens migration laws restricting bloodsuckers and fiends.'
Ever since taking the Order of the Phoenix's advice and freeing the Vampire clans from their restrictions, the Minister had faced tremendous criticism and even though the Vampires posed no threat, the whole of the magical world was up in arms in protest.
The almighty Auror League had even made a public statement that the Vampires were joining the fight against Voldemort - on the rare occasion they ever spoke to the public - but even they could not instill confidence.
Turning the page, his eyes fell on another. 'Alexa Flock insane! Ministry and League officials fear for magical legend's mental health.'
This one made Harry's blood simmer in rage at the publication of such slander. Of all the people who understood the threat, she was the one who understood it best. The only reason everyone was being so disrespectful was because she had, for a while, returned to her clan for support and guidance and had therefore been absent from office. Harry, himself, hadn't set eyes on her all summer because she was consumed with plans to prevent Voldemort from raising the most dangerous and evil creatures ever to break free of Hell - the Chimeras. The Order hadn't been informed of the immediate threat, only that recruiting the Vampires was the best course of action.
Harry allowed his finger to trace the picture of Alexa that blinked and smiled up at him from the clipping. The pale cheeks, full lips, flint-like eyes as cold as ice, beautiful hair whose colour was denied by the black and white picture.
Why hadn't she contacted him over summer? It was agony knowing that she was out facing danger while he was cooped up at Grimmauld Place, lording over his deceased Godfather's homes and affairs. Not a letter, not a sharp word via fire and no visits. It was driving him mad. Of all the people who would understand his dream it would be her. He yearned to tell her, but he was forbidden to seek her out - absolutely forbidden.
Wide awake and unlikely to get back to sleep given the nature of his waking, Harry slid from his bed and reached for his slippers, shaking the spiders from their temporary nest. Putting them on, he began to move towards the small writing desk beside the window but was halted by a curious sound from the landing. He could swear that he had heard whispers coming from the other side of his door. Creeping over, he pressed his ear to the wood but couldn't hear anything. Grimmauld Place was known for its eeriness in the dead of night and just as he was about to explain the strange noises as probably Kreacher, the Black family's sinister, plotting house elf, he heard it again. Throwing open the door ready to confront the mysterious night-crawler, he was startled to find not Kreacher but Ron and Hermione bent over the railing overlooking the winding stairs.
"What?" he asked as Hermione beckoned him forward but motioned him to be quiet.
"Meeting," Ron replied, wrapping his dressing gown tight around him, "something about Vampire Elders."
Suddenly Hermione brightened and met them with a beautiful smile, "Alexa's back!" Harry was not the only one with a deep fondness for the part-Siren-part-Vampire Auror.
"You may as well come down, kids," that familiar, entrancing voice drifted up the staircase, making them all start with fright at the unexpected address, "I know you're lingering there!"
The three loiterers found themselves momentarily ashamed for their eavesdropping but banished all feelings except exultation at knowing that Alexa Flock had returned from her ventures. Descending the stairs with a clatter, they emerged in the deserted hallway. The much anticipated newcomer had obviously swept down the narrow corridor leading to the gallery kitchen yonder.
Following the scent of her spicy perfume that was mixed with that unusual, salty smell of the Sirens, Harry led the charge and burst in on the meeting as their beloved friend went about her pleasantries.
He waited impatiently as the witch embraced first Arthur and then Molly Weasley, ruffled Fred and George's hair, patted Ginny's shoulder and so on along Tonks, Professor Lupin, Mad-Eye Moody and their other company before greeting Ron, Hermione and then, finally, Harry Potter.
With the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, Alexa opened her arms and embraced him tightly, "Harry Potter!" she exclaimed, "how on Earth have you been?"
He smiled to himself as he returned her embrace, taking in the sweet scent of her hair and how wonderfully warm she was, "lonely, but now you're here."
He felt and heard her regretful sigh, "I'm sorry we haven't spoken at all this holiday," she said, stepping away and fixing him in her powerful gaze, "top, top secret business always keeps you from friends."
Only at the mention of that business did the four strangers lingering in the dark behind Mrs. Weasley draw his attention. They were garbed most strangely in tunics that covered their slight frames, all embossed with ancient symbols and text. They clasped their hands before them in serenity but had fierce expression on their pale, gaunt faces.
All were men who appeared to be very old, with deep lines set into their faces and gleaming silver-white hair dropping to the middle of their backs. On first glance, these men looked like wizened elves, but Harry knew that these creatures were not entirely free from evil.
The kitchen was chilled despite the fire roaring in the hearth and all present in the kitchen seemed to revere these unknown agents. Yet Alexa approached them with warmth and confidence, and to her their expressions warmed a few degrees.
"Friends, may I present the Vampire Elders," she announced with pride. The ancient Vampires bowed their heads at each in the room respectfully, "as you are all aware from the reports in the Prophet, Fudge has relaxed the restrictions placed on our movements, and that means that my Elders can be with us to finalise our plans."
She introduced each in turn. The Chieftan was Vladmiran, eight centuries old and the oldest existing Vampire un-dead; the Vicenta was identified as Samel and was four hundred and fifty years old; then the youngest were Nikol and Borsun, who looked the more meek of the imposing quartet, but their power was not to be scoffed at.
Harry watched them carefully as he would a lion waiting to pounce. For now, they looked peaceful but he did not trust them and neither did the Order.
Hermione tried to quell her trembling while Molly Weasley clutched her husband's arm tightly. Tonks, being an Auror, was familiar with Vampires and their fearsome ways so met their steely stare with her own, and Lupin thought similar, sympathising with them given he was also an outcast creature.
Alexa, however, seemed not to notice her fellows' fear and seemed quite excited to be in the company of her own kind again.
"Vladmiran, this is the boy I wanted you to meet," she announced, ushering the Chieftan in Harry's direction, "Harry Potter."
Vladmiran extended a withered hand and Harry took it, not wanting to offend such a potentially lethal creature, "so this is the boy who crushed Voldemort at his peak!" Vladmiran exclaimed, shaking his hand vigorously, "my gratitude, Mr. Potter, and that of my kind. We all think highly of you and you are always welcome at our table!"
The feel of the old man's hand repulsed him. It was cold as the dead heart in his breast and every bone and vein could be felt through the thin sheet of white skin, "well...thank you," he stuttered, "a great honour." Although he wasn't sure if it was.
"Not at all," the loud, imposing voice of the ancient Vampire exclaimed, "our High Priestess speaks highly of you to us. We are indebted to you for saving her life."
"It was nothing," Harry mumbled, passing over the reference to Alexa being a High Priestess. He could feel his cheeks blushing red and wanted to avoid any further embarrassment, "anyone else would have done the same."
Vladmiran shook his head, "quite the contrary! Anyone else would have driven a stake though her heart or decapitated her knowing what she was! You saved her from eternal damnation at the feet of our Maker, where he would banish us to where they burn our flesh, pick it from our skeleton and grind our bones into dust over the course of an eternity!"
Alexa instantly spotted all's discomfort, for they were not used to the Chieftan's manner. Even at peace, Vampires always seemed aggressive and dark with their everyday language and normal magical folk were ill-accustomed to their ways and their traditions.
"Vlad, quit with the negative imagery!" she exclaimed in a jovial tone, "you'll give them all nightmares!"
The wizened man bowed his head and swept back to where the others stood in an unnatural silence that concerned all present.
"Now, to business," Alexa announced with a resounding clap that echoed about the high ceiling.
Mad-Eye, the least perturbed by the Vampires, cleared his throat, "we have just had word that the latest attempt has failed, Alexa. The Tricorn clan was massacred en route to the rendezvous point."
"Another failure," she muttered, shaking her head and casting her eyes down in grief, "Voldemort is slowly destroying the only hope we have left!"
"We are running out of opportunities," Remus Lupin announced, toying absent-mindedly with his coffee cup, "so far we only have two Vampire clans successfully transported but these grow impatient for information."
Tonks silenced him, placing her hand over his gently before continuing in his stead, "we haven't been able to tell them anything at all, Alexa, only that Voldemort plans to bring something forth from the nether regions of evil. They need to know what they're up against!"
"No!" the witch exclaimed, a fiery glint appearing in her eyes in the face of potential mutiny, "it is not their burden to bear. If you all knew the black void that I know is coming, you'd all give up the fight. I can't let that happen."
"Not everyone would give up," Harry announced, "don't you all see that we're being tested? If we are to be truly worthy of life then we have to fight for it because if not, no one wins. I know what's coming, not through choice, and it's the worst evil you could possibly imagine, even worse than Voldemort. Be ignorant while you can and be glad of it. Don't rush to be told all the details."
"Very well spoke Harry, but fear of the unknown is more all-consuming than knowing your foe," a familiar voice echoed down the corridor. Everyone turned and faced the kitchen door in time to see Albus Dumbledore striding down the narrow access, leading Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape, "if the Vampires are growing anxious then so will our other allies, so the time for secrets has passed."
"Albus," Alexa said in a warming tone, her eyes gleaming dangerously.
"The Chimeras," the old wizard announced, "are to be raised from their Hell."
All in the kitchen, barring the Elders, descended into chaos. Knowledge of the Chimeras' threat was like a cold void that smothered all the hope that had once existed.
First there were exclamations of horror and then a deep, impenetrable silence that was like a Dementor, swallowing all good thoughts for the future. The future was a terrifying prospect because, for the first time, nothing was certain anymore.
"Why the hell did you do that?" Alexa's voice raised in sheer fury was the first noise to pierce the eery quiet, "this was exactly what I was trying to avoid! They weren't ready to hear it!"
It was the first time that Harry had ever seen Dumbledore anything but serene. His bright eyes gleamed in anger and his brow furrowed, deepening the lines already present, "Miss Flock, we are going to war and must devise a strategy that will exploit our enemies' weaknesses. How can we do that when we do not know what we are fighting?"
Harry was surprised that the Hogwarts Headmaster had addressed Britain's most powerful Auror so formally given their close acquaintance, and it was clear from Alexa's astonishment that she was too.
"Remember to whom you are speaking, old man!" Vladmiran shrieked in fury, stepping in between Alexa and Dumbledore with fierce possessiveness.
Albus instantly bottled and stoppered his sudden rage and smiled kindly, "Mr. Chieftan of the Vampire Elders, I meant no disrespect. Forgive me, Alexa. I fear I have become too passionate regarding this issue, but I implore you to see your error, my dear. Please, spread the word amongst the clans that have already heeded our call. We must prepare them for what lies ahead."
For a moment, Alexa battled with her feelings but soon her expression hardened, "is this how this is going to be?" she asked of her friend and mentor, stepping out from behind Vladmiran, "you second guessing my every decision and trying to undermine me? If we reveal the threat to the clans that haven't yet sworn fealty to our cause then they will flee and go to ground with their trust shattered and I will be banished. Deception is not lightly forgiven amongst my people. Once they have sworn fealty then we can talk again."
"Alexa," Hermione whispered in a shaky hiss of words, "how many do we have helping us against the Chimeras?" It was a question that Harry was interested in also.
"Four clans, the Elders here and the Order of the Phoenix. If that totals a hundred then we'll be lucky!" she replied, "we lost four clans - massacred while moving. They've learned our plans somehow and are picking us off one by one."
"What about the League?" Harry dared to ask, "will they be helping?"
"Surely you've seen the paper, Harry?" she replied, "I have been suspended from office, pending psychological evaluation, and we all know how they'll pronounce me."
Dread gripped Harry's heart. Yes, he knew. Fudge would not allow her to return because she was a threat.
"To Hell with Fudge and his meaningless decrees," Minerva McGonagall exclaimed, breaking her lengthy silence, "everyone in the magical community must know that you are perfectly sound in mind!"
"Actually the magical community is quite pissed off with my, and I quote, 'unhealthy and disturbed fascination with certain un-dead and bloodthirsty creatures'...like Vampires for example," she replied in a sneering, mocking tone, "it is the opinion of most that I should either be committed to St. Mungo's psychiatric ward in a strait jacket or sentenced to an eternity with the Dementors at Azkaban, or what's left of them given their allegiance to Voldemort."
"That's funny, because I had quite a conversation with Courtney Lovelace," Albus interjected.
Alexa snorted, "I'll bet it was a conversation! Even though Miss Lovelace is an exemplary Auror and witch, it is her that should be subjected to a psychological examination."
"Was it her madness that spoke so highly of you?" Dumbledore replied with a triumphant smirk beneath his silver beard, "and was it her madness that testified as to your sound mind before the Wizengamot and swore that she and everyone in the Auror League would serve no one but you? They all believe in you, Alexa Flock. As do we all. Natalia, Dimitri, Nikoli, Francois and Ingrid - among others - all hold you in very high regard and have sworn that should you ever give the word, they would follow you to the death. Is this the fealty you were hoping for?"
Harry grinned from ear to ear as Dumbledore winked knowingly at him. Every eye in the room was on Alexa, including the Elders'.
Unable to stand their stares, she turned away and began to pace, her every concern and worry fuelling each step. In order to aid her decision, Severus Snape stepped forwards,
"Fudge is weak, don't let yourself be," he said in his deep, gravelly monotones.
Stamping her foot, she signalled for quiet and then turned to Vladmiran with re-ignited fire in her eyes, "contact the clans and inform them of the threat. Tell them that Voldemort plans to raise the Chimeras. He must be stopped before the portal can be opened or all is lost," she said in that authoritative tone that almost dared anyone to speak against her, "we must also up our game seeing as Voldemort has upped his. I must got to Romania at once."
Vladmiran bowed low and he left, motioning the others to follow him. There was almost a sigh of relief when the Elders were on their way, for the kitchen once again warmed up.
"Albus, Minerva, Severus, will you help us?" Alexa asked, "I need an ambassador to travel to Romania with me and second my motion. They do not trust the Ministry of Magic anymore than Vladmiran does." Albus nodded and volunteered himself as an ambassador while his two loyal teachers agreed to watch over Hogwarts while he was gone, "then we will leave in two hours," she announced, much to Harry's dismay. He had hoped that she would be back longer, but evidently there was still business to conduct.
"What's in Romania?" he dared to ask, almost afraid of the answer.
"Vampires," she replied with a smirk and a strangely gleeful glint in her eyes, "Transylvania is full of the strongest Vampires ever to walk the Earth. They never rest and are exemplary warriors and are sure to join our fight, for there has been enough Vampire blood spilled to bring them to our side."
"But Transylvanian Vampires reeked such havoc in the aftermath of the Chimeras' last raising that they were forbidden to ever set foot on our soil. It will take a tremendous amount of magic to break that restriction," Snape added, "magic that may even be beyond you."
Alexa laughed, "there are always loopholes to every rule."
There was something in her eyes that told Harry she was looking forward to defying the Ministry more than she already had. But he was worried. What if the Transylvanians couldn't be controlled? What if they turned against the Order and joined Voldemort? There was also his concern that Alexa simply wouldn't survive this latest battle and he couldn't bare that. His feelings were deeper than even he had thought.
With plans in motion, the Order concluded their meeting at dawn, with Mrs. Weasley forcing everyone back to bed for a couple of hours ("I don't care if it makes you late for work, Arthur Weasley, you need your rest!").
But Harry knew that sleep was far away, with Alexa due to depart on another mission. He remained frozen in the doorway, watching as she stooped and took a poker from the hearth, stirring the glowing embers that were steadily dying.
"You could do with your rest too, Harry," she addressed him in soft tones, "go back to bed like Mrs. Weasley said."
He shook his head with surprising vehemence, "you expect me to sleep knowing that you're here?"
She smiled to herself, "I guess not. You must have worried a great deal about me."
"Seeing reports of more deaths at the hands of Deatheaters, what did you expect?" he replied with a sharper tone than he really intended.
Looking up at him, the dying orange glow on her cheek, she read the feeling in his eyes and a deep feeling of guilt consumed her. So long she had toiled and ventured and had never thought, nor been allowed, to write to young Harry Potter.
All summer, her plans and ambitions had taken over, such was the necessity. Her plans were important for the greater good, but how could she explain that when she was faced with Harry's hurt? He had seen her true side - her Vampire side - when she had rescued him from Voldemort's clutches and he had neither been afraid nor run away. He had shown true bravery.
But it was his acceptance that had terrified her. She was part demon, and not just any demon but the unholiest and most dangerous of all. No one had ever treated her as an equal besides Dumbledore and the Weasleys. It was far easier for her to deal with the rejection and prejudice than acceptance.
"I'm sorry that I couldn't contact you, Harry," she said, standing up and stepping towards him, "I was a little preoccupied with getting the clans to safety and I couldn't even do that right."
"It's not your fault," Harry tried to reassure her as she pulled out a chair and sat down, her head in her hands, "how could you have known what Voldemort was planning?"
"But I could have been there transporting them instead of pacing the length and width of my office, waiting to go into a meeting with Fudge that was cancelled anyway!"
"This time it'll be better," he continued, "once the Transylvanians get here everything will be better."
Alexa shrugged, "we've got to get them over the seas first, and that's not considering how we've got to get their support first. Transylvania is not a friendly place to outsiders, even Vampire outsiders."
"You will succeed," Harry said, sitting down next to her and covering her icy hand with his own, "they'll know you mean well and will join our cause when they understand its threat to them."
"I wish I had your optimism, Harry, but I think we're fighting a losing battle," she divulged with tears forming in her wide, doe-like eyes, "I wouldn't tell anyone this, but I think something really bad is going to happen soon."
"You mean Voldemort is close to raising the Chimeras?"
Alexa shook her head so hard that Harry felt like her teeth would fall out, "no, not that!" she exclaimed, "he knows something or has someone helping him that's led to so many failures. If the Deatheaters manage to destroy this last hope then all is lost. There's something we're missing."
From her reaction, Harry Potter knew that whatever she was feeling had truly terrified her. It was unlike Alexa Flock to be so fearful for she was normally so steadfast and strong, but he felt too that they were missing some obvious detail that could be the difference between success and failure.
Just as he was about to reach out and embrace her and dry away her tears, a deep voice cleared its throat behind them. They both looked round and saw Dumbledore stood in the dark, shadowed doorway.
"Everything is ready," he said, "we'd better set out."
Alexa nodded and snapped her fingers, a hooded travelling cloak appearing from the air itself and wrapping itself around her. With a wan smile, she hugged Harry tightly, "be good at school and don't get into too much trouble," she said with a small sniff, "I'll write when I can."
With that, the pair swept from Grimmauld Place without a backward glance, leaving Harry very nervous and even more alone.
Why did her infrequent visits always end in an abrupt departure? Harry didn't have the energy to answer the questions his inner voice presented him with.
His heart weighed him down and eventually the glowing embers died, surrendering the kitchen to the icy chill of the early morning.
Somewhere in the dusty house, a clock struck, but he was too tired to count the chimes that vibrated down the corridor. All he troubled himself with was the fact that it was early and the day was too new to dress and venture outdoors, so it was with a loud yawn that Harry trudged wearily up the stairs and into his room, bolting the door behind him.
Alexa was such a warm, affectionate creature that she left in her wake a deep, gnawing loneliness that chipped away at him slowly and steadily. He missed her eyes, her smile, the smell of her perfume and the butterflies that appeared in his stomach whenever she was near, and these feelings had changed ever since she had saved his life.
From that day on, she had captured him mind, body and soul and Harry Potter was in no hurry to be freed. He was quite happy for the ravishing beauty to linger before his mind's eye until the end of time.
He padded towards his bed sleepily and was about to collapse into the welcome folds when a white object lying atop the dark covers caught his eye. Bending down, Harry picked it up gingerly. It had been placed there while he was in the meeting.
He glanced at the flowing calligraphy and instantly recognised the distinctive curl of the 'y' of his name. Tearing open the envelope in greedy earnest, he took out the neatly folded parchment and unfolded it.
Clipped to the left corner of the official correspondence was a card on Auror League stationery. The same writing that was on the envelope continued on the card, which simply said 'my dear Harry, please consider this my birthday present to you.' It was signed simply with an 'A'.
In eagerness, Harry bent back the card and scrutinised the parchment beneath. The familiar handwriting of Alexa was gone. The cold, distant print of the letterhead stated that the correspondence was not from her department.
Evellis Academy, Admissions Office.
His brow furrowed as he tried to think of the significance of the Academy. He somehow remembered someone at Hogwarts mentioning it to him, possibly even Hermione. If it had been, then the Academy could represent anything given the unfortunate fact that he rarely paid attention to the sometimes know-it-all Miss Granger. Now he really wished that he had listened more attentively.
Mr. Potter
We are pleased to inform you that you are currently holding a Conditional position to study First Year Studies; Part One: Evil Detection, at Evellis Academy, which is due to commence two years to the date of this letter and provided you have completed the necessary qualifications at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Your nominated Referee has assured us that you will strive to attain the minimum requirements necessary to attend, and given her rank and respectability within the Ministry of Magic, we have accepted this as sound assurance.
There is no need to respond to this letter. All correspondence may be facilitated by your Referee: Alexa Q. J. V. Flock, Head Auror of the 22nd Defensive Division of Britain, High Witch (for six consecutive years) and Leader/Founder/Chair of the League of Aurors.
Thank you for applying to Evellis Academy, good luck with your current studies and we hope to greet you at the Welcome Address in two years.
Yours gratefully,
Jane WhipsnatchSenior Secretary of Admissions; Evellis Academy.
Harry stared for several minutes at the letter, re-reading it three times and pinching himself the same to ascertain that he wasn't dreaming. They hadn't even begun to fill in applications for further study yet, let alone spoken to Referees.
His heart beat furiously in his ears with excitement. Jane Whipsnatch would have probably had a heart attack when Alexa's reference had been deposited on her desk. It must have given her quite a kick to learn that the Boy Who Lived was aspiring to be an Auror.
Alexa Flock had always said that she would help, and she hadn't disappointed.
He wanted to grab his friend and mentor round the neck and kiss her with gratitude. Now all he had to do to secure his place at Evellis Academy was pull his grades up to what they should be, which would prove to be a very different and more difficult task. He could probably enlist Hermione's help but she would want to see solid proof that he wasn't just using her to skive off and shun some hard work. Harry just had to hope that his best friend knew him better than that. Alexa had stuck her neck out by pledging such confidence in his grades and the last thing he wanted was to make her look even more a fool than the Daily Prophet had made her already.
Very carefully, Harry Potter folded the letter up and stowed it and Alexa's notecard back into the envelope, concealing it in the drawer with his heinous Daily Prophet scrapbook. The powerful Auror had promised to help him get into the Auror Academy, but it had never crossed his mind that she would call on her influence with the League to do so. It just added another thing to the never-ending list that Harry owed her for.
He was tempted to pen a short 'thank you' note but he had no idea where to direct Hedwig, certainly nothing more than Transylvania, Romania. Despite his wanting to express his gratitude, Harry had to accept that they were separated once again and likely to be for a long time.
It just warmed his heart to know that even though his birthday was a few days away, Alexa Flock hadn't forgotten him in the midst of her exhaustive duties.
Fixing her breathtaking image in his mind's eye, Harry crawled back into bed and fell into a fitful slumber.
The final few days before they returned to Hogwarts were filled with a mass of cleaning of the old Black residence that was now Harry's lodgings, inherited from his deceased, fugitive Godfather, Sirius Black, and which was also Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.
Members of the Order had tried on numerous occasions to rid the house of its dust pestilence but nothing seemed to work. It was as if it was enchanted to fall from the ceiling like invisible snowflakes, contaminating everything it touched.
Mrs. Weasley spent hours in the drawing room beating the tapestries on the walls with a brush, emerging every few minutes coughing and gasping for fresh air.
"It's no use!" she shrieked, stomping off down the hallway shaking dust from her red hair, "nothing will make this house clean!"
"It's still as disgusting as it was when we first moved the Order in," Hermione grumbled, flapping her duster out of the window to dispel the cloud of dust.
"I like it this way," Ron muttered to Harry in an undertone, "reminds me of my room back home with its layer of grime beneath the soft, fluffy dust. Makes it quite cozy."
Harry shook his head at Ron's strange nostalgia, but the Weasleys had been away from home a long time.
Since the Order had welcomed the Vampires to their cause, the red-haired family had practically moved in. Sometimes Harry wished for peace, quiet and the joys of being left alone, but Grimmauld Place wouldn't be home without them.
"You do realise that household dust is one part dead, sloughed-off skin cells and the other part dust mite faeces, Ronald?" Hermione interjected in that superior, condescending tone that she saved only for the second youngest Weasley child.
"Really, Hermione?" Ron exclaimed sarcastically, irritated that she'd been eavesdropping on their conversation, "I never knew that! Thank you for sharing."
With an irritated hmph, Hermione Granger stomped off and turned her attention to furiously scrubbing the walls clear of cobwebs.
When she was out of earshot and had her back turned, Ron turned to Harry with a shocked and disgusted expression, "is she right?" he gasped in horror.
Harry burst out laughing, "this is Hermione we're talking about. When is she ever wrong about anything?"
Ron let out a strangled cry of anguish and scuttled away, leaving his friend almost bent double with laughter.
"What's with him?" Fred asked, casting a dark shadow over Harry, who had to look up to meet his gaze, "that's the third time our brother has run off whimpering like a girl."
Harry stifled his laughter just long enough to explain, sending Fred into hysterics and all at poor, innocent Ron's expense.
The Grimmauld Place townhouse was filled with such laughter and gaiety that Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny could hardly bring themselves to leave. The days went flitting by and soon it was time to pack for another school year at Hogwarts.
Harry's trunk had never emptied save for one or two of his favourite books, which could be told apart from the others by their creased covers and scuffed spines. Hermione, on the other hand, spent an entire morning flying around the house in a frenzy, gathering scrolls of parchment, odd quills with their feathers crooked and bottles of ink, before she fastened the buckles of her trunk and collapsed in Harry's room, where he was secretly staring at the letter from Evellis Academy.
"Thank heavens!" she exclaimed with a weary sigh, "I never thought I'd finish!"
"Well, you have been reading those books constantly," Harry replied, "I'm surprised you could find them all."
"Kreacher had snook off with my copy of 'Runes for the Advanced'. I had to smack his hands before he'd stop playing tug-of-war. I really do think that he hates me."
Harry couldn't help but smile at the house elf activist's furrowed brow. Kreacher's dislike really did bother her, especially given how Hermione had gone out of her way to be nice to him to no avail, "well Hermione, if you go around slapping him then he's bound not to particularly like you."
She hmph-ed for a little while, folding and unfolding her arms in indignation before muttering, "we had a letter from Alexa today, all written in coding runes."
Harry threw his letter down in surprise, "and this isn't the first thing you tell me?" he barked, "when did it arrive?"
"Just before breakfast," she answered, "Mrs. Weasley was too preoccupied with the sausages and bacon to notice. Dumbledore's phoenix brought it so we knew that it must be from them."
"What did it say?" Harry's interrogation continued, his feelings slight hurt with the knowledge that his mentor hadn't thought to send him a more personal note.
Hermione read these feelings from her best friend's expression and knew that the impromptu arrival of a letter from Miss Flock really shouldn't have been mentioned.
Mrs. Weasley had aired her concerns regarding Harry's all-consuming interest in the Vampire-Siren half-breed.
It was common knowledge within the Order that she had particularly intoxicated the young Harry Potter, her Sirenism still apparently potent, and they all worried themselves about him. Her Vampire side still struck fear into their hearts because of her potential for evil, even given all the good work she had done as an Auror.
Harry's was a dangerous love which no good could come of, and everyone knew it but him.
"Only that all is well in Transylvania," Hermione muttered, avoiding Harry's imploring stare, "the Vampires were quite accommodating when Alexa introduced herself, so her reputation evidently travels further than we all thought."
"Have they agreed to help us?"
She shook her head, "not yet. When she wrote the letter, they were preparing to go to Council about it. The Vampires need to discuss everything with their own clans before they can agree to anything."
Harry growled, "as if we have the time for more talk!" he exclaimed in fury, "the Chimeras could be summoned tomorrow for all we know and we wouldn't be prepared!"
Hermione looked him in the eyes for the first time, afraid of the blazing anger glaring in his irises, "Harry, if the Chimeras break through into this world, not even the Transylvanian Vampires can stop them. Nothing will stop them."
"We don't know that!" he retorted angrily, "nothing is certain. The Vampires may be able to kill them."
"Alexa says not."
"Hasn't the great Alexa Flock ever been wrong?" he demanded, his temper electrifying the atmosphere.
"She isn't this time!" Hermione shouted, her best friend's eyes widening in surprise but he remained silent, "Harry, she's High Priestess and that means that she knows these things. It's how she's become so powerful. But she's investigating potential solutions. The Council possesses a great library of knowledge and prophecies. If anything can be done, she'll find it there."
Harry couldn't help burying his head in his hands, consumed with helplessness. With his mentor so far away, he felt as though he was stranded in a crashing sea of despair, even though the better part of his judgement told him to put his feelings to one side. He knew he was getting in too deep but even though he could feel himself falling, the young wizard could do nothing.
"Harry, we're all getting really worried about you," Hermione said in a very tentative tone.
Since Cedric Diggory's death, which Harry felt completely responsible for, he was prone to unpredictable bouts of fury, and even though Hermione was well versed in defensive spells, she felt incredibly vulnerable given the strict restrictions placed on underage wizards and witches,
"Whenever Alexa is away you become so depressed and angry that you snap at everyone, then when she's back you smile more than I've ever seen you smile before. What I'm trying to say, and really badly too, is that these feelings..."
"What feelings?" Harry barked suddenly, his voice echoing about the room menacingly.
Hermione realised once again that this was a subject best not broached, "Harry, I'm sorry, it's just that..."
"What?" he interrupted, his eyes blazing with a fury that he knew was unfair. Some part of him beneath the angry personality knew that Hermione was just worried about him. Yet all he wanted was to be left alone with his feelings and not be made to feel guilty about them.
He didn't even know what he felt for Alexa Flock, everything inside him was just so confused. When she was around, Harry felt as though the whole world was brighter, even if the sun was in, and that the threat of evil times approaching was nothing at all. But when she was gone, a fist of ice clenched his heart and numbed his mind to all but almost madness.
She seemed to exhibit a calming effect on his troubled life which he valued more than anything. When the Auror was around, Harry could tap into himself again, rather than the grumpy, angry thing that he didn't recognise when he looked in the mirror.
"Any feelings that you may have for her won't lead to anything good. She's a Vampire."
"And a Siren!" he barked in Alexa's defence.
"But still a Vampire," Hermione replied, remarkably calm, "she possesses more potential for evil than the rest of us."
"I can't believe what I'm hearing!" he exclaimed, "Alexa Flock saved me from Deatheaters, she convinces the Vampire Elders to help a Ministry they detest, and she trawls thousands of miles across the sea to enlist the Transylvanians' help, and you're convinced that she has evil potential? She has a better soul than any of us."
"What's going on here?" Ron's voice appeared from the door, his head poked round curiously, "what you shouting about, Harry?"
"I wasn't shouting," Harry muttered, indignantly folding his arms and turning away.
"Didn't sound like it," the red-haired Weasley son replied and threw himself down on the bed with a hmph of exhaustion, "seriously, Harry, that temper of yours could trigger World War III!"
Harry whirled around in anger, "well, what do you expect? Is it illegal to actually like Alexa?"
Ron snorted, "I do a damn sight more than like her, mate," he said with a grin, "she's bloody fit! Especially when she's angry."
"Honestly!" Hermione exclaimed, "can't anyone see beyond her Sirenism?"
"Sirius was with her for years so she can't be that bad!" Ron replied, "and it's not her Sirenism, she's just so...well..."
"Yeah," Harry added dreamily, the two boys drifting off into their own reverie.
"Boys!" Hermione muttered to herself and stomped from the room in a temper.
It was several minutes before the boys could speak again, so caught up were they in their own thoughts.
"Why does everyone have such a problem with the fact that I have some feelings for Alexa?" Harry asked, lying face down on the bed that Ron was lying across, "she's saved my life, got me into the Auror Academy and just been there for me...sort of. What's everyone's issue with her?"
Ron shrugged, "I dunno, mate. It can't really be because she's a Vampire because they let her into the Order didn't they? Maybe it's because she lives such a dangerous life."
"But we all live dangerous lives at the moment and she's fighting to make it better. Why can't anybody see that?"
Ron shrugged. Neither of the boys knew any of the answers to the questions in their minds, much to their disappointment. They wanted to be able to defend their attraction to her but no one would understand, as Hermione had proven.
Clearly the Order were not completely convinced that Alexa was on the side of good. Her revelation about her Vampire origins to all who were not already aware had been regarded with extreme caution, McGonagall and Snape in particular. The former fiercely wanted to believe in Alexa's humanity but the latter liked to protest at all junctures that Alexa couldn't be trusted, especially when in contact with her own kind.
It was getting increasing difficult for the rest of the Order to close their ears to Vampire prejudice, and that of the Ministry also didn't help their cause.
Even the Daily Prophet headlines were beginning to affect the stability of the Order and the younger members lived in constant fear of a schism dividing the only force actively working to stop Voldemort. No one wanted Alexa Flock to be responsible, but the fact was inevitable.
Sooner than anyone really wanted, the day dawned that marked their journey to Hogwarts.
Trunks, animal cages and other paraphernalia were stacked treacherously in the narrow corridor in preparation for their departure, and Mrs. Weasley piled their plates high with a delicious breakfast to satisfy them on their long journey.
"You'll need your strength today," she fussed, "they don't feed you properly on that train."
"Can we have some money for sweets please, mum?" Ginny asked, her hopes dashed with a vigorous shake of Molly Weasley's head,
"Absolutely not," she snapped, "we told you to save some of your holiday money for the train journey but you wouldn't listen."
With a frustrated growl, Ginny abandoned her half-eaten breakfast and sat back in her chair, arms folded.
Harry gave her a sympathetic smile, making a mental note to buy plenty of sweets to share amongst the youngest Weasley children.
Mrs. Weasley fussed over everyone equally as they prepared to leave Grimmauld Place, for she wasn't accompanying them to King's Cross Station. It consisted of the usual motherly dotings of 'keep safe', 'don't break the rules', 'don't lose your quills, we can't afford anymore.'
Her final warning was directed at Ron, who always seemed to manage to misplace his entire year's supply of quills within the first two weeks.
But the doting didn't end there. Dear old Molly made a tremendous show of straightening coats, pulling wooly hats down about their ears, tying scarves and checking that gloves were correctly on.
Harry couldn't help but smile as she fretted that little bit more. It was at times like these when he pined for his own mother, the mother whose death was still to be avenged.
All in all, it took the children and Mr. Weasley all their effort and persuasion to leave the dank, oppressive house, Mad-Eye Moody, Lupin and Tonks acting as their convoy. The three members of the Order followed the Weasleys' car all the way to the station, using deception charms that made them appear to witnesses as a flock of birds, flying in formation.
The station in the heart of London was so busy that their farewells to their faithful protectors had to be rushed. It was an irksome task, for Harry particularly wanted a little more time to converse with Remus Lupin. The werewolf was looking a little worse for wear these days and the concerned teenager was particularly keen to know why, but they hadn't had a spare moment at Grimmauld Place and now time was not on their side.
"Take care Harry," Lupin said kindly.
Tonks issued a final, mischievous smile before they both disappeared, Mad-Eye following a few seconds later.
With the brief farewell over more quickly than when they had faced Molly Weasley, the four returning Hogwarts students trudged through the jostling crowd within the station.
They parted from Arthur Weasley at the infamous wall between platforms nine and ten, each rushing through the concealed gateway while he watched them go before following Lupin, Tonks and Moody back to Headquarters.
Platform nine-and-three-quarters was almost as full as King's Cross, bodies loitering on the platform as sons and daughters said their own goodbyes.
The scarlet, gleaming Hogwarts Express stood proudly at the platform edge with its many carriages coupled behind. The steam from its mighty engine obscured most of the people on the platform from view, but they still managed to spot some of their classmates; Neville Longbottom, Lee Jordan, Seamus Finnigan, Colin Creevey and other Gryffindors were waiting to get into the carriages as Slytherin bullies pushed and fought them with loud guffaws of amusement. Among those Slytherins were Crabbe and Goyle, Draco Malfoy's former stooges.
Harry grinned to himself as he thought ahead to a peaceful year without fear of confrontation with the white-haired, sneering son of Lucius Malfoy.
Harry's hatred had catapulted to new heights last year when he had launched an unprovoked and potentially fatal attack on Alexa Flock, which would have claimed her life had Harry not been there to cast the spell that had saved her.
Professor McGonagall had been a witness to the near catastrophe and had no doubt appealed to Dumbledore to expel the ruthless teenager and send him away in disgrace.
Now Harry could truly enjoy Hogwarts for the first time in all his years of study.
They braved the queue at the doors and managed to board the carriage without incident, but the oppressive heat of the booths they passed made them want to rush back out into the cool of the platform.
Eventually they located a vacant booth towards the rear of the train and both boys were quickly lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sounds of the train.
Harry and Ron were carried away on the clouds to where the object of their affections was waiting, and together they frolicked on the ripples of the dreams, their sleep only disturbed by waves of hunger at tea time, which were placated with innumerable amounts of sweets from the trolley witch, Harry keeping his silent promise to purchase enough to share with everyone.
Their stomachs full, they all embarked on a raucous game of Exploding Snap, finishing just as the train pulled noisily into Hogsmeade Station.
The final few miles of their journey was carried out by Thestral-drawn carriages, the lights in the windows of the ancient Hogwarts castle drawing ever nearer.
Harry heaved a sigh. It was nice to be back among friends at the only place he had been able to call home.
Since Sirius died two years ago, even Grimmauld Place appeared cold and desolate. He didn't feel like it was a proper home, and he was beginning to wonder how the Order of the Phoenix could operate from a place that used to house such evil.
Hogwarts, however, was warm and welcoming, even in the icy courtyard, and he could hardly bring himself to leave it at term's end.
The feast put on for the students in the Great Hall was magnificent, with mountains of roast chicken drumsticks, mashed potatoes and every vegetable imaginable, with boats of thick, meaty gravy.
Despite indulging in handfuls of delectables on the train, Harry and Ron piled their plates high and shovelled food into their mouths in the same manner as a starving child.
Hermione threw them many a judgmental glance, but nothing seemed to deter them from their single-minded goal to give themselves indigestion.
When the feast was almost over, the teachers filed into the hall and took their seats at the head table. Their entrance attracted the attention of all the seated students, with Harry, Ron and Hermione in particular surprised to see the presence of Albus Dumbledore.
The wizened Headmaster was much paler than usual in the candlelight, his eyes having lost their lively sparkle, and his hair and beard appeared to be knotted and exhibited all the tell-tale signs of lengthy travel.
Given his appearance, they weren't altogether shocked to take in that he wasn't going to address his school, like he usually did at the start-of-term feast.
"Isn't he supposed to be in Transylvania?" Ron asked.
Hermione shrugged, "they must have come back."
Harry's eyes traced their way to the head table where McGonagall and Snape were talking over the fragile form of the Hogwarts Headmaster.
Dumbledore had shrunk back in his seat, his eyes almost closed. His robes were soiled and torn in places, his hat slightly askew.
The fact that the usually cheery, animated man was not engaging with his fellows was testament to his exhaustion, but it also had Harry worried. Was it the travel that had stolen the old man's strength, or was it because something had gone wrong in Transylvania?
"Wouldn't Alexa be here with him?" he asked.
Hermione and Ron didn't respond and all three pondered over the mystery throughout the remainder of the feast.
Travelling from Transylvania was quite a taxing feat, but Dumbledore had always appeared the picture of health and vitality, so was it possible that something could have gone wrong?
With Voldemort at large, getting stronger and desperate for victory, anything was possible and it was this that worried them as they looked to the table again to witness Dumbledore's head bobbing dangerously low over his soup.
Suddenly McGonagall rose from her seat and clapped her hands for attention, "may I have your attention, please?" she said and waited for the respectful silence that rapidly followed, "Professor Dumbledore has asked me to give out a few announcements; as usual, the Forbidden Forest is out of bounds to all students; Professor Hagrid would like to warn off all attempts to jinx his flock of Blast-Ended Skrewts. Last year there was a great deal of them lost to such childish behaviour. Any student causing harm to these magical creatures may face expulsion; and finally, I would like to welcome your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor...oh, where is he?"
The students all looked around the head table eagerly for their new teacher, but the chair between Professors Sprout and Flitwick was strangely vacant.
A great whisper of anticipation spread amongst the students, their tittering halted by the sudden, loud slamming of the door to the Great Hall.
All heads turned to where a dark figure lingered in the doorway.
"Ah, here he is. Let us all welcome your new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Vas."
The new Professor began his long journey down the length of the Great Hall to muted, nervous applause. He was a sinister looking creature with long black hair that hung heavily down to his shoulders, framing his pale face limply and thick with grease. Two grey eyes shone like a beacon from behind his long fringe, his lips almost blue. He walked with heavy steps and hunched shoulders, passing the students shifty sideways glances as he progressed.
The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws in his wake wrinkled their noses at the stale smell of sweat and the outdoors that followed him, seeping from the heavy leather coat that hung shapelessly on his shoulders. The material was scraped and scuffed until it was almost threadbare and the black waistcoat and shirt must have made him very hot indeed, given the strangely warm September weather.
"Professor Vas, would you care to say a few words?" McGonagall queried as he stepped onto the platform.
To the surprise of all the students and teachers, he shook his head in a violent manner and swept passed, taking his seat but making no attempt to eat.
McGonagall was speechless, but quickly cleared her throat and concluded her list of announcements with a little more trepidation than before.
All the students felt it. Whoever this Professor Vas was, he had brought the cold in with him. They all huddled together a little tighter and wrapped their hands around their mugs for warmth.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Harry thought aloud, not daring to take his eyes off the evil-looking man for even a second.
"Yeah, he looks kinda scary," Ron replied, "and what kind of name is 'Vas' anyway? Where's he from?"
"Well, we're not likely to find out," Hermione hissed, "if his attitude's anything to go by."
"You don't think this could be another Ministry thing, do you?" Harry whispered.
Hermione shook her head very definitely, "positive. The Ministry is so paranoid that they wouldn't trust him. He must just be an everyday applicant - and the only one, because I doubt even Dumbledore would trust him given that entrance. Just plain rude!"
"He's definitely going to be one to watch," Harry muttered, "if he isn't a Ministry spy then he could be anyone."
Harry's sentiments were echoed in the thoughts of all the other Hogwarts students that evening.
Vas' entrance had made everyone all the more subdued, and it was a very quiet party that trudged up the vast staircases to the common rooms.
But Harry, Ron and Hermione had barely set foot on the staircase when an all too familiar voice reached their ears,
"I've heard that Professor Vas is quite the radical, just what the school needs!"
Whirling round in a frenzy, Harry laid eyes on the one person he had been most looking forward to doing without.
The white-blonde hair, sneering mouth, cold eyes and tall, scrawny frame. Nothing had changed.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Harry demanded, storming over to where Draco Malfoy was sandwiched between his loyal goons, including Millicent Bullstrode and Marcus Flint.
With a lopsided, sneering smirk, Malfoy turned towards him, "what do you think, Potty?" he retorted, his nickname for Harry amusing his eager onlookers, "or have you still not realised what this place is about? You're getting about as mad as that crazy bitch you're so fond of."
Instinctively, Ron wrapped his arms over Harry's shoulders, effectively restraining him. Harry struggled and growled in fury but Ron was the stronger.
"You think you can just walk back in here after you tried to kill Alexa?" he yelled, his eyes blazing.
Malfoy sneered at him, "unfortunate incident that, caused by a manic episode brought on by stress," he added a theatrical pause to allow it to sink in, "doctors at St. Mungo's examined me and pronounced me fit to come back. Thought it might do me good, getting back to a routine."
"You evil, conniving little..." Hermione shrieked, breaking off before she could say something she'd regret, "Dumbledore wouldn't just let you back after using such dark magic!"
Malfoy laughed mockingly, "you think Dumbledore had a choice?" he sneered, "have you all forgotten that my father is on the Board of Governors? Father presented my psychiatrist's report which pronounced me sound of mind again."
"I'm sure I'll be able to fix that!" Harry yelled, still struggling against Ron's grip, "you tried to kill her!"
"Is little Potty in love?" Malfoy jeered cruelly, "it just goes to show your taste. Filthy little do-gooder."
"Leave her out of this, you snake!" Harry's tirade continued, "everyone knows you're a Deatheater after what you did!"
Draco shrugged carelessly, "moment of insanity, Potter. Get Granger to look it up because that's all she's good for."
"Inverté Statim!" Hermione shrieked furiously, the curse streaking across the hallway where it struck Malfoy clean in the chest and knocked him off his feet.
Stunned, he lay on the floor, grunting in pain from where his head had hit the floor.
"Wow, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed, loosening his hold on Harry in awe, "that was wicked!"
Hermione shrugged modestly and tucked her wand away as Harry rushed to Malfoy's side and kicked him sharply in the ribs.
Crabbe and Goyle scattered in fear, under the impression that he was going to turn his fury on them next.
"That's for Alexa," he snapped as his victim spluttered and groaned, rolling around on the flagstones.
Before their fight could be discovered, Hermione led them away up the stairs. Once safely shut away in the warm Gryffindor common room, they wove their way through the many bodies and collapsed on the hearth rug before the fire.
"Malfoy was bang out of order back there, mate," Ron said as Harry stared into the flames, lost in his own thoughts, "nice kick though. Wish I'd done it. I can't believe they let him back in!"
Hermione snorted, "we all know what his father's like, Ron. The Governors and Dumbledore wouldn't have stood a chance."
"So now we've got to share a classroom with him," Harry snarled, "Dumbledore could have stopped him coming back if he'd wanted to."
"That's not really fair, Harry," Hermione said, "Dumbledore will have done his best, but you know that the Malfoys always get what they want."
"Then it's time someone took a stand," he retorted, "everyone seems to have forgotten that he meant to murder an Auror in cold blood!"
Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance, "but Draco didn't mean to murder just any Auror did he, Harry?" she asked, "he meant to murder Alexa and that's what bothers you. You're allowing your feelings to get the better of you."
Harry growled angrily and broke off his absent-minded stare at the fire's heart and glared at Hermione, "stop it now," he snapped, standing up, "I am sick of being condemned for whatever feelings I have for Alexa! There is nothing wrong with loving someone, yet you're treating me like I'm committing a cardinal sin. She isn't like an ordinary Vampire and I am sick of people not seeing that!"
With that, Harry rushed up the stone steps and into the boys' dormitory, where he threw himself face down on his bed and pummelled the mattress with his fists.
In truth, he was more furious with himself for admitting feelings that he was still confused about. Thus far, he had only experienced any love-like feelings for Cho Chang, who was singularly beautiful and generous beyond measure, but Alexa Flock had a certain greatness about her that extended far beyond her magical powers.
She had actually used her abilities for good and had battled Voldemort on numerous occasions. She had a strength and will that others could only aspire to, and yet beneath all that, she was kindhearted, caring, fiercely loyal and passionate about a cause worth fighting for.
Then, of course, she was beautiful. Not just seemly or pretty or attractive, but the kind of beautiful that inspired writers and poets. Her deadliness only emphasised her appeal and with such complex feelings, it tore Harry's heart into pieces when people were seen to act against her - like Malfoy and Dumbledore.
It was the latter that spurned him the most. How could the Headmaster, a figure with tremendous responsibility, place his students in danger by allowing the murderous son of a Deatheater to return? Draco had tried to kill Alexa. A completely inexcusable act.
Harry found himself completely alone until sleep embraced him. He hadn't even mustered the energy to change out of his robes.